


Been In Between

by starwarned



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Sex, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, POV Simon Snow, Smut, but mostly this is just smut for the sake of smut, just a fuckin SPRINKLE of praise kink and monsterfucking, some emotional porn for u all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28684047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: “Ready for another?”Baz splutters. “Absolutely not. I do have a refractory period, Simon.”Simon and Baz are soft (and hard) and they test some limits.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 26
Kudos: 184





	Been In Between

**Author's Note:**

> this is my emotional support porn (thank you dem and tumblr crew). i wrote it for my mental health because I start my last semester of college tomorrow! 
> 
> this fic is unofficially dedicated to dem because all the porn I write is for them <3 
> 
> endless thank yous to [sconey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sconelover/pseuds/sconelover) and [rhien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/werebear/pseuds/rhien) for betaing this fic for me! y'all are rockstars and your critiques are all that I live for <3

My name whispered just barely next to my ear, warm breath sending shivers down my back. 

The tightening of thighs around my hips, the strength of his taut muscles making itself known, even as he holds onto me with reverence, with tenderness.

The light brush of his fingers against my jaw, my cheek, just over my cupid’s bow. His fingers slipping into my mouth and across my tongue. 

Sometimes making love to Baz is like this.

A hitching breath and a sharp bite at my throat, his teeth scrabbling against my skin and leaving marks that will ache in the morning.

His ankle wrapping around my hip to tug me into him harshly. 

The almost-painful yank on my hair, forcing my head down into him further. As if between his legs isn’t _exactly_ where I want to be. 

And sometimes fucking Baz is like this. 

  
  


And sometimes, it’s both. (And I’ll gladly take it either way.)

Sex with Baz is never the same twice in a row — sometimes he’s soft with me and I’m soft with him and we spend hours leisurely fucking. And, of course, sometimes it’s rough and loud and he looks at me like he’s going to devour me _and I want him to_. No matter what, he makes me feel loved and wanted and _sexy_ (a feeling I’ve never really gotten anywhere else. Baz is the first one who made me feel attractive, I guess). 

Baz and I are somewhere in the middle of soft and rough tonight. He’s got his hands buried in my hair and is making sinful noises as he tugs and threads his fingers through my curls, but he grinds his hips forward softly, reverently. 

I’m taking my time with him — reveling in every little sound I can coax out of him and trying to get him to come a second time. I know he can. 

Baz is fucking _elegant_ when he comes. (I’ve thought about it a lot and there’s no better way to describe it.) His stomach gets really tight and his thighs twitch, his eyes clench shut, and he holds his breath, like he’s trying to chase the feeling and make it last longer. He’s only vocal again once he’s hit the high point of his orgasm and starts to come down from it, moaning and whimpering and writhing in my grasp. 

I kept my mouth on him when he came for the first time today, gently coaxing him towards another crescendo. 

He’s whimpering quietly now, his eyes shiny when I look up to check on him. I trace my tongue over the head of his cock slowly and watch as his chest heaves. Baz reaches a hand up to absentmindedly toy with one of his nipples until I slap it away and replace it with my own fingers, tugging harshly at the sensitive skin and rolling it between my fingers. My wings are spread out above us, shielding him from the moonlight and making his face appear a bit more pink than usual.

“ _Simon_ ,” he whispers. Breathy. A plea. He’s still tugging on my hair with his other hand and as he digs his nails into my scalp, tears spring to my eyes. 

I’ve got one hand braced against his hip, but I move it now to slowly slide along his inner thigh. I suck on my fingers quickly before pressing one into him, enjoying the quiet moan of my name that drips from his lips. He’s still open and slick from earlier.

Baz whines loudly and shifts his legs, disturbing where my tail is wrapped around his ankle. I’ve got him exactly where I want him and I take advantage of how pliant he is in my arms, dropping kisses along his hips and pressing in a second finger. 

He’s still sensitive from his first orgasm, warm and wet and soft — vulnerable. It makes me want to cry. It also makes me want to fuck him until he comes a second and a third time, calling my name (my _actual_ name).

I twist my fingers inside Baz and curl them up to stroke against his walls, tearing a sob from him. 

_“Fuck,”_ he whispers. “Simon, I don’t think I can—” 

“You can,” I respond, kissing his hip bone before pressing my open mouth against the underside of his cock. I suck gently and run my tongue along the vein there. 

_“Nngh,”_ he wails. “It’s so much!” (His fangs have dropped now and he has the tiniest lisp. It’s fucking adorable.)

“Good,” I say teasingly, flicking my tongue against his frenulum and fucking my fingers into him shallowly. I return to pinching and rolling his nipple with my other hand. 

Baz sobs in pleasure and wriggles in my hold, his hips rolling up into my mouth. 

There’s a moment where he opens his eyes to look at me and I’m already sort of crying because his grip on my hair is making my eyes water, but now— Even as his hips fuck down onto my fingers and even as I have my mouth wrapped around his cock, he’s looking at me like he did on our wedding day. 

I swallow the rest of his cock, sucking softly and relaxing my throat while I continue to fuck my (now three) fingers into him, searching out his prostate and massaging it with every thrust. 

_“Fuck, Simon!”_ he cries out, shutting his eyes and dropping his head back again. 

“That’s it,” I respond softly, pulling off of him. “ _Good boy_. You can do it.” I take his cock back into my mouth. 

I watch as his chest rises and his stomach clenches. He tightens around my fingers, which is almost painful—but Merlin is it worth it because moments later, he’s shouting my name, rutting his hips into my touch, and coming. He holds his breath and his thighs clench around my shoulders as I continue to stroke his prostate and swallow everything he gives me (which isn’t a lot because he _just came)._

Baz whimpers with oversensitivity when he has enough breath to, and I torture him for just a moment longer, rotating my fingers inside him softly and licking his cock clean. I press up against his prostate one last time, drawing a lovely gasp out of him, before withdrawing my fingers and kissing his hip. 

I take the towel that we’d preemptively set out (we’ve gotten a lot smarter about just flinging ourselves into sex) and wipe off my hand as well as clean up Baz from his first orgasm. His eyes are still shut when I chuck the towel into the laundry bin and crawl up next to him. 

“Darling,” I whisper next to his ear. 

Baz hums quietly and blindly wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me down into a kiss. He’s always soft like this and I don’t think he even minds the taste of himself on my tongue. (I certainly don’t mind it.) 

“Alright?” I mumble against his lips. 

His eyes flutter open and they’re the loveliest shade of grey. Deep and clear. The eyes I fell in love with all those years ago. He kisses my nose and then the mole under my eye.

“Yes, Snow,” he whispers. “I’m quite alright.” 

_“Ah, ah, ah,”_ I say, grinning, waiting for him to correct himself. 

Baz rolls his eyes fondly. He tightens his grip on my shoulders and I flatten myself on top of him. “Right. Yes, _Salisbury-Pitch_ , I’m quite alright.”

I laugh, “Doesn’t have nearly the same ring to it, does it?” 

Baz agrees, pouting. Then, under his breath, he adds, “Still doesn’t feel real.” 

Nuzzling my nose into the side of his neck, I breathe in his scent — cedar and bergamot (that hasn’t changed even after all this time), sex, and something sweet I can’t identify but is so distinctly Baz. I nod against his jaw. “It’s been a month,” I say. 

“Feels like a day.” 

“Feels like three years,” I counter, smiling. I pick my head up so I can look at him. “You could’ve proposed to me that night in Hampshire.” 

“You would have run screaming out the door,” he says, one eyebrow lifting. (I kiss it.) 

I shrug. “Maybe,” I say. (I probably would have.) “Fine, then — you could have pro—” 

“I think I proposed at just the right time, thank you,” he interrupts. He slides his hands down off my shoulders to wrap around my hips. My wings shudder a bit. 

“You did,” I say, kissing his cheek and running my nose along his cheekbone. And then because I’m feeling far too soppy, I smile and pull back enough to look him in the eyes. “Ready for another?” 

Baz splutters. “Absolutely not. I _do_ have a refractory period, Simon.” 

Turns out, with some coaxing and some kisses, and with a very well timed use of **Candle in the wind** , Baz _is_ ready for another. 

I take him hard this time, folding his legs up so his calves rest against my shoulders, fucking him into the mattress and wrapping my tail around his throat when he begs me to. I come before Baz and settle back down next to him, bringing him to his third orgasm with gentle presses of my fingers and careful placement of my tongue. 

It’s give and take with Baz. It’s soft and slow or sweaty and hard or all of the above, but I love every second—every little fucking inch of this I get. I want everything with him. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](snowybank.tumblr.com)! I am just as sexy and annoying there as I am here


End file.
